


Hold On to Nothing, or Four Memories Dean Will Never Tell Sam About

by fits_in_frames



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-29
Updated: 2006-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1549832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things a little brother doesn't need to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold On to Nothing, or Four Memories Dean Will Never Tell Sam About

**Author's Note:**

> _they say you were something in those formative years_  
>  _well, hold on to nothing_  
>  _as fast as you can_  
>  {tori amos // pretty good year}  
> 

**one.**  
The very first thing Dean remembers is the Impala. He was perched on Mom's knee, on the side of the road, and she was holding him with one arm, wiping his nose and mouth with a tissue in the other hand while Dad half-stood, half-knelt in the open back door, muttering and occasionally walking into the woods with a handful of dripping paper towels, only to return with nothing. He remembers a spot of rust on the back bumper, and he remembers how much he wanted to touch it, because he'd never seen anything like it before, and how he reached out for it, but Mom gently pulled his hand back and rubbed his tummy and whispered something in his ear, and then--

 **two.**  
He'll never forget the day Sam was born. He was whisked away by some relative or another, and then somehow ended up at the hospital, trying to navigate a sea of people to find his parents. And then suddenly Dad took his hand, lifted him up and held him at the hips so he could see over the crowd of Mom's chattering friends and nurses who kept going on about how precious little Sammy was. He didn't think the little red face poking out of a bundle of green and pink blankets in Mom's arms was anything special, but then Dad told him, softly in his ear, "That's your brother," and he knew what it meant to be proud. After a good ten minutes or so, Dad said his arms were tired, so why didn't he go play with the other boys in the hall? But when everyone left, and Mom was asleep, and Dad lifted the baby out of her arms to put him back where he came from, he brought the bundle over to Dean, who was sitting in a chair just outside, holding hands unwillingly with a nurse. He thanked her, and asked Dean if he would like to carry his baby brother to the nursery. Dean, tired and hungry, rubbed his eye and nodded, and Dad showed him how to hold Sammy and Dad's hand was on his back the whole way until they got to the door and the nurse smiled at him and took Sammy from him. He didn't want to give him up, so he started bawling, and Dad had to pick him up again and carry him, kicking and screaming.

 **three.**  
Somehow, even though Mom would never let him hold Sammy again, he remembered exactly how to when the house was on fire.

 **four.**  
When Sam got his acceptance letter to Stanford, Dean was on his way back to Lawrence after working his first job without Dad. Sam called him at two in the afternoon, but he didn't pick up. He listened to the voicemail later, after stopping at a seedy-looking burger joint for some fast, cheap dinner. He sat on the table part of a table-and-bench combo, and chomped away at his burger as Sam's voice, tinny and far away, said: _Hi Dean, it's me. Um, I just wanted to let you know that I got in. I guess you don't really care, but it's important to me, so, uh, yeah. See you when you get home._ He didn't put the phone down when it was over, didn't hit any buttons, just let the woman's mechanical voice drone on ( _to save it, press three, to delete it, press seven, for more options..._ ) until someone walking into the burger joint, silhouetted against the sign out front, pointed at him and leaned into their friend. He hopped off the table and called Dad, told him he'd be a little late, ran out of gas and had to push the car to station and boy, was he exhausted. He drove around until he found a decent-looking bar and did vodka shots with a girl whose name he didn't know until he passed out. The next morning, he woke up behind bar, next to that same girl; only she was half-naked, and there were a few other people he vaguely remembered touching at some point. When he bolted upright, narrowly missing the edge of the bar, she stretched and sleepily stood up, walked towards the bathroom and called back to him, "You kept toasting to Sammy last night. Who the fuck is that?" He didn't answer, and made sure he was gone before she got back.


End file.
